


The Second Sasquatch Rebellion

by KatieHavok



Series: Breeding Lilacs [48]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Awkwardness, Beer, Blizzards & Snowstorms, Canada, Case Fic, Danger, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Getting to Know Each Other, Huddling For Warmth, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Hypothermia, Kissing, Magical Realism, Matter of Life and Death, No Sasquatch Were Harmed In The Writing Of This Story, Period-Typical Sexism, Pining, Post-Movie 1: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, Rebellion, Sasquatch, Touching, Travel, Winter, World War I
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-17 06:18:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14826950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatieHavok/pseuds/KatieHavok
Summary: Newt sets his glass down to take both her hands in his, squeezing gently. “I’m actually rather glad they aren’t here,” he admits and smiles when she raises a curious eyebrow. “I have something to ask you and it’s...easier...without witnesses.” Her other eyebrow joins the first in hopeful excitement when he reaches into his waistcoat pocket, riffling around only to pull out a wrinkled sheet of paper. “Are you aware of what’s been going on up in Canada?”Tina looks away to hide her disappointment, taking a moment to delicately clear her throat before turning back to him. “Yeah, I’ve heard a few things. Has anyone done anything yet?”





	The Second Sasquatch Rebellion

**Author's Note:**

> While I'll admit that the sasquatch in the HP universe is apparently confined to the Pacific Northwest, I can see no good reason why they _also_ can't be part of Canada -- especially British Columbia and the Northwest Territories, where the majority of this story takes place. Basically, I needed someplace very cold for this fic, and that area + their own mythology of sasquatch-like creatures was a perfect fit.
> 
> Thanks, as always, to @kemara24 for beta-reading!

*

They’re making supper when Newt arrives, letting himself into the apartment with his key and shedding his jacket and boots before wandering into the kitchen.

“Hey, Newt,” Queenie greets him and gives Tina a _look_ until she sighs and sets down her knife to wash her hands. He smiles when she goes into his arms, hugging him in greeting before allowing him to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

“I’ve missed you, Tina,” Newt says in a low voice. Embarrassed, Tina ducks her head until he cups her chin, bringing her eyes back to his. “Why do you always hide from me when I say nice things?”

 _Because I’m still not used to this,_  she thinks. _Because I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the way you look at me, and I’m not sure I want to_. She can’t say that, of course, so she blinks and moistens her lips until Queenie casts her a life-line, flicking her wand to send slices of potato into boiling water.

“You just make her feel shy, is all,” she says with a giggle and drops Tina a broad wink when Newt blushes and looks away.

“It’s not as bad as that,” Tina promises, squeezing his shoulder before allowing him to retreat into his case to check on his creatures, her eyes lingering on his messy hair until it vanishes out of sight.

“I really wish you two would just get on with it already,” Queenie sighs, only to laugh when Tina playfully flicks a dishrag at her.

*

Later, Newt pours them a tumbler of whiskey before leading her to the sofa.

“When will your sister be home from dancing?” he asks, his eyes skittering over her face. Tina swallows harder than she intended, sputtering out a cough before wiping her mouth on her sleeve. Newt’s hand lands on her back, rubbing comfortingly broad circles, and she grimaces before looking pensively into the fire.

“I don’t think Queenie’ll be back tonight,” Tina says slowly, and watches from the corner of her eye as the tips of his ears turn distinctly pink.

“Ah,” Newt mumbles, withdrawing his hand to take a big gulp of his drink before nodding knowingly. “Well, in that case...Jacob’s a lucky man.”

Tina whips her head around to glare at him, and Newt’s eyes widen when the implication of his words sinks in. “What, I — no!” he exclaims, holding up a trembling hand. “Tina, I didn’t — I don’t mean to imply that there is anything improper or — or _untoward_ happening between them. I only meant that—”

“ _Newt._ ” His name in _that_ tone slices through his stammering, and he smiles at her sheepishly before quickly looking away. She reaches out to take his hand, soothingly rubbing her thumb over the scars crisscrossing his knuckles until he looks up at her from beneath his fringe.

“It’s okay,” she murmurs, squeezing his fingers. “I know what they’re doing. I’d have to be pretty stupid to _not_ know, wouldn’t I?” She exhales unsteadily, his fingertips tracing a circuit over her palm. “I just wish they wouldn’t... _flaunt_ it so much.”

Newt sets his glass down to take both her hands in his, squeezing gently. “I’m actually rather glad they aren’t here,” he admits and smiles when she raises a curious eyebrow. “I have something to ask you and it’s...easier...without witnesses.” Her other eyebrow joins the first in hopeful excitement when he reaches into his waistcoat pocket, riffling around only to pull out a wrinkled sheet of paper. “Are you aware of what’s been going on up in Canada?”

Tina looks away to hide her disappointment, taking a moment to delicately clear her throat before turning back to him. “Yeah, I’ve heard a few things. Has anyone done anything yet?”

“They have,” Newt says with a cheeky smile. “They’ve asked me to head north to act as an...intermediary of sorts, to see if an equitable agreement can be reached.” He squeezes her hands warmly when he goes on, his expression turning into something secret and sly as he looks at her through his hair. “They’ve given me leave to bring an assistant or an escort, and I was wondering if, perhaps…” His voice cracks and Tina holds her breath when he inhales sharply before going on, saying all in a rush: “Tina, I was wondering if you’d like to go with me.”

She looks from his nervously compressed lips to his wonderfully steady hands, so warm and comforting wrapped around her own. A quick bit of math assures her she has the time, and she wonders if perhaps Director Graves would be amenable to making this an act of international cooperation so she wouldn’t feel guilty about taking time off. Either way, Tina knows her answer before she’s even thought it through, and she squeezes his fingers until he meets her eyes.

“Yes,” she says, and laughs as her smile breaks through, more than aware of the way his gaze falls to and remains on her lips. “Yes, I’d _love_ to go with you.”

“Oh, well — that’s good, then,” Newt says with unmistakable relief, a relief reflected in his smile when he relaxes against the cushions of the couch before reaching for his drink and offering her a toast.

She returns it in kind, and his hand remains in hers for the remainder of the evening.

*

“Who’s idea was it to do this in _January_?” Tina growls, burrowing deeper into her heavy parka as Newt, seemingly unaffected by the cold, strides alongside her, his head swiveling on his neck to take it all in.

“It _is_ a bit chilly, isn’t it?” he remarks absently, flicking his wand to cast a warming charm over her before aiming one at his feet. The trickle of magical warmth helps, but not as much as his arm when it slides around her, hauling her in for an odd sideways hug. “We’ll be there soon, I promise. Just watch the ice, you don’t want to fall through.”

“Doubtful, with how cold it is,” she chatters out and tries not to feel too awkward when she puts her arm around his waist, hugging him in return.

He smiles down at her briefly before nudging her with his shoulder, using his chin to point. “Look!”

The hunting cabin is small but cozy-looking, with cheerful white curtains and smoke drifting from the chimney. They put on a burst of speed until they are nearly running when they clatter across the porch, and Tina gasps in relief when Newt fumbles open the door and they step into blessed warmth.

“Oh, that’s so _much better_ ,” she moans when Newt unwinds her ice-encrusted scarf, earning a blush. He helps her out of her coat and hood before bending to cradle her calves to work her boots off. Half-melted snow lands around them in sad piles as they shed their outer layers, until Newt sends it all to rotate and dry before the fire, bundling Tina into a quilt from the bed before steering her toward the couch.

He prepares them a lunch of bread and canned chicken soup, bringing Tina a bowl before joining her. Tina dips her bread into the broth and frowns at the shadows already drawing long across the cabin. The soup tastes awful but they eat it anyway, welcoming the warmth as snow scours the windowpanes and the wind howls around the eaves.

“There’s a tavern in the settlement,” Newt tells her when the dishes are washing in the basin. “We’ll go there tonight for a proper supper and a drink. Then it’s up with the sun tomorrow, we still have a lot of ground to cover before we reach the sasquatch encampment.”

“Tell me about it,” Tina grumbles, dreading another day spent struggling through the snow and looks over at the bed — conspicuous in its singleness. “Speaking of sleep,” she says, temporarily emboldened by bad food and good company, “how do you want to do this?” She gestures to the bed when he looks at her blankly, giggling a little as his ears turn red.

“Er, well,” Newt mumbles, clearing his throat. “I suppose we could — I mean, it would be warmer to share, but—” He stops, nervously meeting her eyes. “What would _you_ like to do, Tina?”

Tina rests her head on the back of the couch, her body and mind made dozy and warm with food and companionship. “We’ll figure it out later,” she says, yawning. “What time is it anyway?”

Newt taps his pocket watch with his wand to calibrate it to their timezone before snapping it closed. “It’s barely half-past three,” he tells her, leaning over to tuck the blanket around her feet. She smiles at him in thanks, and his hand lingers on her leg, a warm and gentle weight. “Why don’t you have a kip, Tina? I can keep myself occupied for a while so you can sleep.”

She wrenches her heavy eyelids open, squinting out the window to where the snow is blowing harder than ever, the wind howling like a caged beast. She’s opening her mouth to say, _No, that’s alright_ when Newt reaches past her for the slightly dusty throw piled over the back of the couch. He sneezes while shaking it out, waving his wand to clear the air before tucking it around her, his eyes impossibly soft.

“Rest,” he tells her softly. “I’ll wake you up in an hour and we’ll go into Yellowknife before having a good night’s sleep.”

“How _very_ romantic,” Tina murmurs, reaching out to touch his wind-raw cheek. “You sure know how to show a girl a good time, Mr. Scamander.”

He blushes, warming her palm before covering her hand with his own. “Yes, well…” Newt says, clearing his throat. “I do — try.” He leans forward, and there’s a half-formed gesture there, something that causes her to hold her breath as anticipation tingles — but then he lowers his chin at the last possible second, pressing his lips together. “Sleep well, Tina.”

“Thanks,” she says weakly, but he’s already moving away, perching on the edge of the bed to rifle through a bundle of papers while agitatedly running his fingers through his hair. Tina watches him until her eyelids grow too heavy, drifting into sleep to the soft rhythm of his breathing, distracting her from the shrieking of the storm.

*

The settlement is a _settlement_ in the truest sense of the term, a collective of tents and hastily-built dwellings clustered around a store, a bath, and a tavern. The pub looks to be the sturdiest of the three, and Newt stops her just before they cross the threshold, his breath warm against her ear.

“Be on your guard in here,” he murmurs, holding her eyes with his own. “These are the rough sort, not a proper gentleman among them, and I’d imagine some haven’t seen a woman in quite some time.” He bites his lip before going on. “ _Please_ be careful, Tina.”

“I’m an Auror, remember?” she tells him brusquely, squaring her shoulders. “I’ll be fine.”

Tina angles her chin into the air while pushing briskly past him, only to wilt when she throws open the door and every man in the establishment turns to regard her, all of them straightening with interesting as their eyes gleam in anticipation. She takes a subconscious step back, shrinking into herself until Newt wraps a casual arm around her waist, causing most of the men to turn away with a scowl and avoiding eye contact while steering her toward an empty table.

“Stay here,” he tells her in an even tone after helping her out of her jacket. “I’ll bring us some food and perhaps a drink.” Tina knows he’s too kind-hearted to gloat for being proven right, so she nods meekly and watches Newt makes his casual way to the bar, not missing the way he keeps the fingers of his right hand angled toward the hidden wand holster strapped to his wrist. He and the barman converse in bastardized French, and Newt laughs loudly, his teeth on full display before returning to her with two overflowing pint glasses.

“You’ve caused _quite_ the stir,” he tells her in a low voice and makes a point of touching her hand and cheek in a clear gesture of familiarity before sliding into his own seat. Tina reaches across the table for the comfort of his hand, and he holds her tightly before taking a hefty swig of beer, using his sleeve to wipe away the foam dotting the stubble on his upper lip. “Oh, that’s _much_ better.”

Tina takes a tentative sip, finding the brew richer and more bitter than she’s used to, but far from unpleasant. She takes a larger gulp before squeezing his hand. “Thanks, Newt,” she says and smiles up at him from beneath her eyelashes, more than aware of the gazes lingering on them. “Um, did you order food, or are we limiting ourselves to liquid calories tonight?”

“If only I could,” Newt murmurs and drains half the glass in a single pull. Tina watches the knot in his throat bob as he swallows, her mouth suddenly dry, and forces herself to look away when he sets the glass down with a satisfied thump. “Merlin’s _beard_ , I haven’t had beer this good since before the war.”

She squeezes his hand in warning as mouths curl unpleasantly before turning up the radiance of her smile, slanting her foot over the toe of his boot beneath the table. “I wouldn’t have taken you for a beer drinker, Mr. Scamander.”

Newt inclines his head in understanding before signaling to the bartender for another round, his eyes lingering on her face as he covers her hand with his own. “I’m typically not,” he admits sheepishly. “I much prefer spirits, as you know. They don’t make you feel quite so....so _used_ the next morning. But I couldn’t call myself a proper Englishman if I didn’t enjoy a good pint.” He skates a finger around the rim of his cloudy glass, glancing at her from beneath his ragged fringe. “And this is _very_ good.”

Tina furrows her brow while trying to decipher his hidden meaning, only to start when a crude trencher bearing a fatty-looking, gelatinous substance is slung before her. The bartender smiles unpleasantly with teeth boasting only a nodding acquaintance with a toothbrush before grunting something greasy-sounding at Newt, who responds sharply, all traces of humor draining from his face. The barman sucks the inside of his cheek and gives her a withering look before making a crude gesture, causing Newt’s hand to clamp painfully around her own as the bartender slinks away.

“We should eat,” Tina says when Newt’s eyes remained stonily turned away from her, his jaw flexing rhythmically. “He’s really not worth it, Newt.” She squeezes his hand, causing his fingers to relax when all the fight seems to drain out of him and he reaches for his beer. “Whatever he said or implied, believe me, it’s _not_ the first time I’ve heard it.”

Newt scrubs his eyes with the back of his hand, his glass hovering halfway to his mouth. “I believe it,” he murmurs hoarsely and meets her eyes. “That’s why — Tina, that’s _why_ I’m upset.”

She can’t think of anything to say to that, so she watches him drink moodily before poking her supposed food, frowning as the entire mass slides around her plate. Tina shoves it aside with a sigh, only to grimace when Newt determinedly pushes it back.

“I know how it looks,” he says, and there’s a smile lurking around his eyes when he looks at her. “But we really _do_ need the nourishment, Tina, and I promise it’ll help keep you warm.” He shovels a large portion into his mouth, his eyes widening in delight as he chews. “It’s really not bad,” he promises, offering her a heaping forkful. “Please, just...try it?”

She maintains eye contact while taking a delicate bite, finding the slop tastes nowhere near as awful as it looks, and smiles while daintily cleaning her lip. “That’s actually pretty good,” she admits, and Newt’s grin is it’s own reward when he pushes half his portion onto her plate, his foot nudging hers beneath the table.

“I’m really not hungry,” he says, a blatant lie — but Tina chooses not to call him on it, making a mental note to make it up to him later before offering her pint in a toast. Newt clicks his glass against hers with a smirk before devouring his own small meal. Tina tries not to feel guilty when he makes up the difference with beer, polishing off two more servings before muffling a burp in his handkerchief.

“‘Scuse me,” he mumbles, his cheeks a merry red in the flickering gaslight.

“I think you’ve had enough,” Tina says gently.

Newt pouts playfully but doesn’t protest when she gathers their outer layers, and he’s as attentive as ever — if a bit wobblier — when he wraps her in her parka and his scarf before taking her arm. They don’t spare the barman or the other patrons a second glance as they square the bill, and Tina sets her eyes forward as they step into the calm and brutally cold night, threading her arm through his before allowing him to lead the way.

*

“I thought you said you didn’t want to cross the river,” Tina says a short time later, frowning when he leads them onto the ice.

“Yes, well,” he murmurs, attention mostly focused on keeping his footing. “It’s been an abnormally warm winter but that storm earlier should have made the ice solid enough.” He turns to her with a quick smile, his eyes crinkling at the corner as he squeezes her fingers. “Besides, we’ll get home that much quicker this way.”

“Are you _that_ desperate to get into bed with me?” Tina teases thoughtlessly, only to gulp when Newt stops short, his eyes very wide in his face. He shakes himself before scrambling to catch up to her, his fingers clamping around her forearm like bands of steel.

“I don’t mean that,” he mumbles frantically, initiating eye contact in his distress. “I only thought that we could share the bed as a concession to the _cold_ , Tina. I have no other intentions or hidden _motives_ behind it.” He squeezes her wrist hopefully, willing her to understand as his other hand twists awkwardly at his side.

Tina reaches for him, cradling his face and smiling when he folds into her touch. “I know that,” she says softly. “I was only making a joke.” She smoothes her fingers up the ridge of his jaw to the shaggy hair tucked behind his ear, scratching gently. “Forgive me for being crass?”

Newt exhales shakily, closing his eyes while nuzzling into her hand. “There’s nothing to forgive,” he whispers, and she feels the delicate shiver that runs through him as she scratches a little harder. “I haven’t even _kissed_ you yet,” he breathes a heartbeat later, and Tina smoothes down his lapel in silent encouragement when he opens his eyes, his gaze piercing. “It would be unwise for me to hope that you’d want anything _more_.”

She looks away, nervously biting her lip. “I thought I was just imagining things,” she tells the snow and turns back to find him watching her intently, both hands now resting on her arm. “But you were waiting for a sign from me, weren’t you?”

“Yes,” Newt says without hesitation. “The last thing I wanted to do was to force myself upon you, or to be perceived as doing so, so I waited for you to indicate your willingness.” He takes a careful breath, steam pouring from his nose when he exhales slowly. “That’s why I asked you along, Tina. I wanted to see if we could cohabitate and get on well enough, and maybe, perhaps…” He lets the thought trails off, hopeful eyes never leaving her face.

“And here I thought you just weren’t interested,” Tina jokes weakly, and moves her hand to his chin, stroking gently. “Do you, uh — if I asked you to kiss me right now, would you?”

“ _Yes,_ ” he says again, and moves to take her into his arms—only to freeze and cock his head, his eyes widening. “Did you hear that, Tina?”

Tina holds her breath when she becomes consciously aware of the deep booming sounds echoing all around them. “Oh,” she whispers, “I heard it but I thought…” She allows the thought to trail off, emotions knocked off-kilter when Newt gently disentangles them to move away from her, his eyes darting around their surroundings.

“It’s the ice,” he says in a low voice. “Tina, love, I need you to head back to shore.” He shakes his head when she begins to argue, his hand hovering in the air between them. “You are lighter than I am,” he says gently. “There’s less chance of you falling through if you go in front of me. Don’t lift your feet up, slide over the ice instead, and try to avoid any sudden movements.” He meets her eyes, his jaw flexing when the booming sounds transmute into deep, stomach-clenching groans. “ _Please_ , Tina.”

“Stay behind me, then,” she hisses, turning away from him and hunching over to lower her center of gravity while pushing forward. “And Newt, be _care—_ ”

The rime heaves suddenly beneath her feet, tossing her forward as a masculine yelp and a splash interrupt the still night. Tina lands on her face, fumbling for her wand on instinct as she scrambles backward, putting as much space between her and the rent in the ice as she can before looking around frantically. She spins in a full circle, finding no signs of a distinctive blue coat before the wind is knocked out of her in horrified understanding, remembering the loud splash without the distinctive crack of Disapparition.

“Oh no,” she breathes and takes a step closer to the hole despite every nerve and instinct screaming at her to _get away_. “Oh no, no, _no_!”

Tina breathlessly Apparates to shore before aiming her wand at the river, sudden determination filling her. It takes three of her most powerful bombardment spells to break up enough ice to squint into the water for him, heart quaking when she realizes just how fast the river flows. She moves 100 yards downriver to repeat the process, squinting into the raging, dark water for any sign, straining her ears until — _there!_ A weak, half-drowned shout. Tina steps as close to the bank as she dares before spotting him, clinging to a boulder and waving a single arm, bracing against the current.

“Hang on!” she shouts, eyeballing the distance and the rotting ice while steeling her nerves. She fetches a single deep breath before reaching deep for her magic, disappearing with a crack to land balanced precariously on the ice-covered boulder, bending to gather him close as the water tries to tug him away.

Newt clings to her with stiff, clumsy arms, and Tina shivers in the cold spilling off him before hauling him up, distantly marveling over her own strength.

“M-m-my w-wand,” he chatters and gestures with his chin. “L-lost it in the c-c-cur—current.”

“We’ll get it back later,” she tells him and wraps an arm around his chest to hold him close. “Let’s get you back to dry land.”

Newt nods, the movement broken into stuttering images by his violent shivering. Tina tightens her hold on him while eying the shore, and is reaching for the core of her magic when his foot slips, toppling them both into the water.

The sudden shock of cold is enough to stun her, and as water spills over her head, Tina physically _feels_ her heart stutter in her chest before restarting with a great, pounding lurch. _Well...shit,_ she thinks philosophically and entertains the notion of just floating along as blackness takes her until something hard and insistent bumps her shoulder. She opens her eyes to find Newt tugging at her frantically, the weight of their combined layers dragging them beneath the surface — and wasn’t he already half-frozen when her attempt at saving him had gone so disastrously wrong?

Adrenaline surges through her when bubbles erupt around Newt’s head, the precursor to running out of oxygen. She takes his arm to kick, fight and pummel their way to the surface until she breaches it with an explosive gasp, dragging him along before taking his hand and Disapparating to shore.

They appear in a snowbank with a terrific splash, having brought half the river with them. Newt makes it to his hands and knees before coughing and retching up river water, the tips of his hair and the lapels of his greatcoat already tinted with frost when Tina takes his shoulders to force him upright.

“We need to move,” she tells him frantically, ignoring the fact that she can no longer feel her fingers or toes and the shivers radiating from deep within her chest. “We need to walk, isn’t that what you told me? Keep moving so we don’t freeze!”

“Hypothermia,” he slurs, and Tina tries very hard not to dwell on the fact that he’s no longer shivering. “Yes, you’re right — do you think you could get us to the cabin on your own, Tina? I’d quite like a nap, you see.”

“No naps,” she hisses, hauling him to his feet through sheer, bloody-minded determination and sliding an arm around his waist when his limbs refuse to cooperate. “Now _move!_ ”

“Well, you don’t have to _yell_ ,” he grumps, and promptly stumbles over his own feet, his weight dragging them both into the snow. Tears sting on Tina’s cheeks until he shifts to look at her, his eyes unfocused but burning in his too-pale face. “You’ll have to use magic,” he says, and his hand lands on her knee — not gentle and light, as she’s used to, but heavy and burning cold, made clumsy by his stiffening clothes. “ _Tina._ ”

She crows in triumph when she realizes she’s still clutching her wand with numb fingers, half-convinced she had lost it in the fracas. Tina curls into him to share whatever meager warmth they generate before focusing on the porch of the cabin, unwilling to bring the snow in with them. “Hang on to me,” she tells him, and he closes his eyes when they vanish together, leaving behind the broken river and his wand.

*

Tina climbs heavily to her feet when they land askew, willing her limbs to cooperate as she struggles out of her frozen outer layers. She kicks her scarf, hat, and parka aside before bending to wrestle with Newt’s great coat and suit jacket, fear driving ice straight into her heart when he can’t seem to find his balance, leaning heavily against the exterior cabin wall. He makes a furry sound when she takes his hand, his eyes fluttering weakly, and she uses her wand to open the door and stoke the fire to blazing before shoving him into the cabin.

“I’m really s-sorry about this,” Tina chatters out as she peels off his waistcoat and trousers, swallowing her trepidation and fear at the bloodless color of his skin. “But I have to get you out of your wet clothes so you don’t freeze, isn’t that what you told me?”

Newt doesn’t respond and that, more than anything, terrifies her. Her hand shakes worse than ever when she points her wand at his greyed underpants, wordlessly drying them before tugging the heavy quilt off the couch and bundling him into it.

A cushioning charm on the floor suffices as she guides him as close to the fire as she dares. She kicks off her own blazer, shirt, trousers, long underpants and socks before drying her knickers and camisole and burrowing into the quilt, wrapping around him from behind. She doesn’t bother with her wand when she summons the remaining blankets, piling them beside their little nest for later as her fingers and toes tingle and burn nastily.

Newt voices a low, pained groan after a few tense minutes, shifting restlessly. Tina makes gentle shushing sounds against the nape of his neck, her hands rubbing his chest until he settles, mumbling nonsense. He stirs again a few moments later, clumsily rolling onto his back to squint at her in confusion before pinching his eyes shut.

“We fell through the ice, remember?” Tina tells him, and pushes his hair off his face, willing the tremor out of her voice as her limbs shake. “We’re at the cabin and I’m working on getting you warm like you told me to do, but I need you to look at me Newt, can you do that?”

He makes a _hrmph_ sound but cracks open his eyes. Tina shivers anew with the realization that he looks terribly disconnected, as if this was all happening to someone else and not to him. She rubs his chest more briskly as her own skin continues to warm, pulling another blanket over the quilt. “Are you in pain?” she asks, moving her hands to his stiff arms to squeeze life back into his muscles.

Newt whines in the back of his throat, unlocking his jaw to swallow. As if on cue, the rest of him erupts first into goosebumps, then deep, almost violent shivering as he instinctively burrows toward her warmth. Tina helps him turn so that he’s facing her, allowing him to press his face into her neck as she holds his shuddering form, closing her eyes in relief when his chest hitches.

“I’m not h-hurting,” he manages after a time, and she can feel the brush of his eyelashes when he blinks, the movement of his lips ghosting over her skin. “But my arms and legs feel _bloody awful_ , they’re b-burning worse than my — well. I feel even more awful than that time I picked up the pox from a woman in Saint Petersburg.”

“Well, I hope you were treated for it,” Tina says dryly, ignoring the prickle of relieved tears when he shifts against her, his arms heavy around her waist, her own trembling beginning to subside as warmth gathers between them. “Welcome back. I was worried for a while there.”

Newt exhales harshly before nuzzling his face into her throat, his breathing uneven. “As was I,” he admits, and rests his cheek against hers, aligning their profiles. “You saved my life. I couldn’t have made it out of that river on my own, and it was incredibly stupid of me to bring us onto the ice.” He lifts his head to look at her, tipping their foreheads together as he squeezes her gently. “Perhaps I’m only upset that my own hubris ruined my chances of kissing you tonight, but... _thank you,_ Tina.”

Tina laughs and squeezes his hands, basking in the warmth seeping through the blankets as his shivering slowly, _slowly_ subsides. “I don’t know if you ruined them,” she says giddily, “but promise me that future kisses will never, _ever_ be interrupted like that again, okay? Otherwise, I may have to kill you myself.”

“Done,” Newt agrees fervently, and laughs when she reaches up to touch his face, his eyes glazed. “I think it may be the whole nearly drowning and freezing to death thing impairing my facilities,” he says, “but you did say ‘future kisses’, didn’t you? Does that — does that mean I still have a chance at this, Tina?” He touches the tip of her nose with his own, smiling faintly. “I haven’t ruined it completely?”

“Yes I did,” Tina says with a watery laugh, and wipes her eyes when all he can do is stare. “And no, you haven’t, but would you mind if we saved the kissing for later? I’m too exhausted to appreciate it right now.” She squeezes his bicep, the color slowly coming back into his skin as he watches her. “I was terrified, Newt.”

“You did remarkably well,” he says in his warmest voice, squeezing her to emphasize the point. “I don’t mind waiting for later, either. Er, to kiss you, I mean.” He swallows with a grimace before closing his eyes. Tina adds another blanket to the pile, truly _warm_ for the first time in what felt like forever. “I still have the taste of the river in my mouth, and I think I’d much rather wait until I’ve had the chance to wash it away. Wouldn’t wish to miss out on properly tasting _you_ , dearest.”

Tina waits for him to make a joke or explain away his innuendo, only to blush when he settles more firmly against her, cradling her body against the cold. “Oh,” she manages weakly, and hides her flaming face in his chest, marveling at the steady and regular feel of life just beneath his skin. “Well, since kissing is off the table — what do you want to do instead?”

“We can talk,” he mumbles, his hand making a slow circuit around the small of her back. “We can’t sleep yet, it’s still too risky for that, and I’m not sure I’d be able to rest anyways — worry for you would keep me awake. So we could have a nice chat if you’re feeling up to it.” He sighs and rests his cheek on the top of her head, making her smile. “I meant what I said — before, I mean. I really _did_ want you to come along so we could get to know each other better. Though let me assure you that falling through the ice wasn’t part of that plan.”

“It was _all_ part of the plan,” Tina teases gently. “I mean, it _did_ get me into bed with you, didn’t it? And here we are, wrapped around each other.” She brushes his chin with her fingers before threading them through his hair, careful not to tug his snarled curls. “You’re feeling terribly clever, aren’t you, Mr. Scamander?”

Newt laughs before pressing his lips to her hair. “Not really, no,” he says and grins when she giggles. “I mostly just feel tired and dirty, but...happy. And besides, we aren’t in bed, not _really_ , so I’m not sure it counts.”

Tina strokes the nape of his neck before finding his eyes, black and gold in the flickering light of the fire. “Enough jokes,” she says, settling deeper into the blankets after stoking the fire and casting a strong shielding charm. “Tell me something. Talk about the first trip you took, or what happened in Saint Petersburg — anything, it doesn’t matter what. Just talk to me.”

“I thought you said you didn’t want to sleep,” he teases gently, only to grow serious when she levels an eyebrow at him. “Alright, alright. I’ll talk. Just...please, before you get upset about anything I say, ask for clarification before you assume. I don’t want to hurt your feelings in any way, Tina, and my past...it wasn’t always pretty, love.”

“Leta Lestrange,” she whispers and nods sagely while setting her jaw.

“Not _just_ Leta,” Newt says, and swallows. “She’s engaged to my brother, did you know?”

Something deep inside her shivers at the comment, empathy welling from deep within. “I didn’t know until now,” she murmurs and cups his cheek when he looks away. “Is that what Queenie was talking about, that time in the suitcase?”

Newt nods before hesitantly bringing his eyes back to her. “Yes. I had just found out. I was... _devastated_ isn’t the word for it, though I’m not sure what is. I love my brother, but I’m worried that tying himself to her permanently is a mistake, though I can’t explain why.” He looks at her anxiously, his lips pressed into a thin line. “I didn’t mention it to you because I didn’t want you to think that feelings existed where there are none.”

Tina digests this before nodding. “Next time, just tell me, please. I promise to understand, or at least try to understand.” She shifts until she’s on her back and Newt follows suit, wrapping a tentative arm around her shoulders when she lays her head on his chest, closing her eyes at the rhythmic sound of his beating heart. “I’m really glad you’re here,” she whispers, and he squeezes her before stroking her skin, his exploratory touch gentle and refined.

“So am I,” he whispers, and nuzzles the top of her head before taking a deep breath and launching into a story detailing his adventures in Saint Petersburg immediately after the war, where he’d gone into a brothel to soothe a skin-deep itch and come out with much, _much_ more than an adjunctive understanding of human mating rituals.

He talks long into the night. Tina doesn’t interrupt him. Neither does anything else, and morning finds them tangled beneath the blankets, their foreheads pressed together until creeping sunlight nudges them awake. They share a secret smile before abandoning their nest for the day to prepare a hearty breakfast of crackling hot corn cakes and tinned sausages.

Newt cleans and reinforces the warming spells on their clothes before they set out into the brilliant winter landscape, taking it slow and easy in deference to their near-brush and holding her hand the entire way. They stop at the banks of the river that had come so close to ending it all, and his gaze grows distant when he looks out over the rapidly refreezing water before turning to her.

Tina holds her breath when Newt’s bare hands frame her face. He kisses her against the backdrop of bare trees and glimmering snow, her arms twining around his shoulders as they tentatively taste and explore before parting with matching grins. Newt slides an arm around her waist when they trek back to the cabin after retrieving his wand from the water, and they go to bed when the shadows grow long and night falls, only to rise in the morning with a new warmth between them, their bodies moving in perfect harmony as they put the Yellowknife river to their back and once more take up the trail of the rebellious Sasquatch.

*

**Author's Note:**

> This fic doubles as a prompt fill, for the anon who asked: _Do you take Newtina fic requests? Like... something where Newt's beat up and bleeding and Tina cleans him up and he's more interested in checking on his creatures etc. Fluff? Dom!Tina? I don't know…_
> 
> The prompt inspired the fic, and the fic was a good fit for the Fantastic Beasts Calendar event, so I have to thank that anon for seeding the idea, and thank all of you for reading and reviewing! <3


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